H35 

W^   HE  BOOK  OF  SYMBOLS 
,  HENRY  A.  WISE  WOOD 


UC-NRLF 


$B    Eb3    74D 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

University  of  California. 

(J 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/bookofsymbolsOOwoodrich 


IHEBOOKOF 

SYMBOLS 

BY  HENRY  A 
V/^ISE  WOOD 

WILLIAM^©? 
««>RITCHIE 
NEW  YORK 
A  D  MCMIV 


^^'r 


m 


f  OF  THE 

I  UNIVERSITY 


CopTrfght,  1904, 

~  Henry  A.  Wise  Wood, 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall» 


Printed  at  Boeton,  U.  S.  A„  by  the  Plimpton  Preee. 


fii?  WM^^  BOOK  OF  ypi.^ 


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IS-IJ^.I 


N  early  youth  I 
had  from  my 
Mother  a  Qisket 
curiously  fash- 
ioned^ and  of 
many  precious 
metals^  Quaint^  animate  carvings 
of  ancient  scenes  were  upon  its 
sides:  the  Garden  of  Eden;  an 
elaborate  edifice  which  seemed  to 
span   the  void    between    earth 


and  heaven;  the  Crucifixion. 
These,  showing  the  labor  and  the 
wear  of  ages,  were  wrought  with 
exquisite  skills 

Upon  the  cover  of  the  Gisket 
were  carven  a  firebrand  and  a 
stake,  and  between  them  the 
mouth  of  a  pit*  The  latter  was  con- 
ceived in  so  singular  a  fashion  that 
looking  never  so  far  into  its  depths 
one  could  not  fathom  it*  Above 
ran  the  words:  This  is  Hell,  ap- 
proach it  not,  for  they  9jt)ho  dis- 
close its  mystery  are  taken  of  a 
sickness^  and  all  things  change  in 
their  sight.  To  me  this  inscription 
seemed  terrible ;  I  dared  not  gaze 
into  the  pit,  and,  when  the  box 
rested  with  its  cover  uppermost,  I 

10 


held  my  hand  over  it,  for  I  was 
afraid* 

Underneath,  also,  the  box  was 
of  strange  designing*  Out  of 
the  center  of  the  bottom  peered  an 
eye,  like  the  sun,  and  from  it  rays 
shot  to  all  of  the  corners  of  the 
Casket,  and  round  about  its  sides, 
and  upwardly  over  the  edges  of 
its  top;  while  from  aflof  the  sides 
of  the  cover  these  rays  gathered, 
and  poured  into  the  very  mouth 
ofheU. 

Into  the  eye  I  feared  to  look, 
for  over  it,  too,  was  an  inscrip- 
tion that  made  me  shrink  in 
terror  from  its  words:  The  Eye 
of  God  sees,  but  it  may  not  be 
seen;   peer  not  into  its  depths, 

n 


nor  attempt  the  mysteries  Hinth- 
in  it,  for  he  <who  reveals  the  Un- 
known  shall  be  cast  out  of  the 
haunts  of  men.  The  cruelty  of 
the  punishment  shock  me;  I 
feared  lest  I  might  see^  and  so  I 
ever  held  the  box  with  its  bottom 
from  me*  If,  inadvertently,!  should 
meet  the  eye,  and  penetrate  its 
mysteries — how  awful  would  be 
the  cost  I 

So  I  bore  the  Casket  close  be- 
tween my  hands ;  the  one  above, 
the  other  beneath  it.  I  would  have 
hidden  it,  had  I  not  been  charged 
to  bear  it  reverently,  patiently, 
faithfully;  or  have  wrapped  it 
out  of  sight  in  the  folds  of  my  gar- 
ments, had  the  scenes  upon  its 

(2 


sides  not  held  me  so  bound  that 
I  could  not  withdraw  myself  from 
the  strange  influences  which  they 
wielded* 


3K4!(W  PON  one  panel  it  bore 
■K5^l  ^  cystic  nature  scene: 
H^^M  a  deep  forest  crowned 
3SS®two  roDing  hills;  be- 
tween the  hills  a  valley  of  luxuri- 
ant undergrowth,  part  lighted, 
part  dark;  and  in  the  midst  there- 
of a  clear,  cool  stream,  with  slop- 
ing green  borders  of  moss*  Over- 
head, the  outreaching  branches 
of  the  wood  waved  in  the  wind, 

13 


and  in  waving  shook  the  long 
strands  of  sunlight  which  kind- 
led the  many  hues  of  the  depths 
beneath.  Here^  by  the  water, 
half  screened  by  the  glistening 
foliage  of  its  brink,  rested  a  man 
and  a  woman;  and  as  their  voices 
mingled  with  the  r-u-u-I-I  of  the 
brook,  there  came  to  me  out  of  the 
picture  its  transcendent  meanings^ 
The  woman  and  the  man  had 
lived,  wandered,  and  dreamed; 
together  they  had  come  through 
the  lowlands,  over  the  highlands, 
into  the  forest;  had  seen  the  clouds 
and  the  sea,  the  sunrise  and  the 
noon,  the  sunset  and  the  coming 
of  the  stars ;  they  had  plucked  the 
flowers  of  the  earth  and  trod  the 

14 


gardens  of  the  sky,  and  now  they 
had  come  by  the  brook  and  were 
resting*  They  had  seen  all,  and 
it  had  wearied  them* 

The  woman  said:  Howbeauti- 
ful  it  ist — and  their  eyes  drank 
the  glories  of  the  valley — andho^o) 
peacefuU  The  swirl  of  the  water 
made  music  of  the  thought,  and 
they  listened. 

Said  the  man:  Ho<a)  good  is 
the  shade,-^the  shafts  of  sunlight 
sped  afar  off  down  the  stream — 
and  the  sotitude,  how  deep! — the 
sounds  of  the  wood  fell  away — 
How  soft  the  moss, — the  tendrils 
of  their  couch  pressed  tiny  fingers 
to  his  side — and  how  sweet  is 
the  odor  of  your  hair  ! 

J5 


The  woman  sighed*  It  is  all 
so  beautiful,  and  you  are  a  part  of 
it,  .  ,  *  and  I  am  a  part  of  it ^ 
I  seem  to  see  you,  and  yet  to  see 
with  you  ;  <u)e  are  alike,  yet  un- 
alike.  You  please  me,  as  all  else 
pleases  me,  and —  the  Hvarmth  of 
your  body  attracts  me* 

Her  words  floated  off;  the 
woman  and  the  man  lay  close 
together^  and  the  breeze  bore  her 
hair  across  the  intervening  space* 
The  clouds  as  they  passed  un- 
noticed overhead  varied  the 
shadows  cast  by  her  limbs  upon 
the  moss. 

The  man  watched  her;  the 
dark  background  of  the  forest 
threw  into  relief  the    delicately 

)6 


modelled  outlines  of  her  form. 
Where  the  perception  of  compan- 
ionship alone  had  reigned^  there 
now  stole  in  upon  him  a  sense  of 
something  overlooked*  The  soft 
hues  of  the  woman,  the  rhythm 
of  the  undulations  of  her  body,  the 
beauty  of  the  hand  that  lay  palm- 
uppermost  between  them — un- 
folding, like  a  lily  upon  the  green 
surface  of  a  lake — the  glistening 
arm,  the  shoulder,  the  neck;  the 
warmth  and  the  fuflness  of  life 
which  they  bespoke;  these,  all  of 
these,  stole  in  upon  the  man, — and 
he  knew  that  there  were  secrets 
in  the  unopened  volume  of 
woman,  which  awaited  but  the 
turning  of  the  title-page. 

J7 


p\f\  B  H  A  It^^ 
or  TMr- 


UNIVERSITY   * 


OF 


A  tense,  unbroken  silence  drew 
about  them ;  the  wood  seemed  to 
gather  its  children  and  stand  afar 
off,  the  sky  and  its  filmy  cloud- 
forms  faded  into  the  realms  of  the 
unseen,  the  moist,  soft  bank  upon 
which  they  lay  passed  from  their 
senses,  and  the  r-u-u-I-1  of  the 
stream  as  it  swept  from  their  hear- 
ing lent  its  throb  to  the  flood  that 
was  coursing  their  veins* 

The  woman  understood,  and 
trembled,  and  the  petals  of  her 
hand  quivered  in  the  green  moss: 
the  current  of  a  new  yearning  had 
sprung  within  her ;  she  felt  it  flood 
her  lips,  her  throat,  her  breasts ; 
felt  it  thrust  aside  the  conscious- 
ness of  all  outward  being,  and^ 

18 


thrilled  with  a  supreme  joy , timidly 
she  awaited  the  moment  of  initial 
ecstacy.*  And  the  brook  sang  a 
paean  to  Nature,  as  it  wandered 
away  to  the  sea. 

This  scene,  I  loved;  and  was 
never  weary  of  looking  at  iU 
Nevertheless,  it  was  evil,  for  an 
inscription  called  it  the  Beginning 
of  Evil,  and  said:  Having  peace, 
Man  sought  pleasure — and,  find- 
ing pleasure,  ne^er  again  had 
peace. 


PON  another  side  of 
the  Casket  was  a  knoU^ 
to  which  a  squalid^ 
dreary  looking  city  of 
the  East  lent  a  background  of  Iow> 
primitive  dwellings;  and  upon  the 
knoll  was  gathered  a  curious  array 
of  people*  In  the  midst  of  them  rose 
a  stake,  upon  which  hung  a  man 
writhing  in  the  agonies  of  death ; 
while  about  him,  impassively 
holding  at  bay  a  swaying,  tumult- 
uous rabble,  stood  a  cordon  of 
Roman  soldiers* 

Within  the  circle  of  the  guard, 

20 


their  faces  strained  and  their  eyes 
streaming,  a  group  of  men  in  an- 
guish watched  the  sufferings  of 
their  leader,  and  at  his  feet,  shak- 
en with  grief,  there  knelt  a  woman 
weepings  Passing  to  and  fro,  in- 
tent upon  their  duties,  stolidly 
moved  those  of  the  soldiery  who 
were  charged  with  the  work  of 
execution. 

Over  this  scene  there  hung  an 
atmosphere  of  suspense,  accent- 
uated by  the  cries  of  the  throng, 
by  the  low-spoken  words  of  the 
executioners,  by  the  sobs  of  the 
woman,  or  by  the  moans  of 
the  now  scarce  struggling  figure 
at  the  stake.  As  the  laughter  and 
jeers  of  the  mob  died  away,  and 

2} 


more  distant  sounds  made  them- 
selves heard^  the  tension  seemed 
to  grow  unendurable,  and  many 
of  those  who  mutely  watched 
turned  from  the  sufferings  they 
beheld.  The  baying  of  dogs  in 
the  town,  the  herd-cries  from  the 
hills  round  about,  the  routine 
noises  from  distant  habitations, 
all  these  served  to  throw  over 
the  cruel  spectacle  a  veil  of  utter 
commonplace,  and  to  lend  to  the 
killing  of  this  man,  the  world's 
gentle  Egotist,  an  aspect  of  infinite 
dreariness. 

The  inscription  of  this  picture 
I  could  neither  clearly  see,  nor 
wholly  understand;  it  was  of 
strange  characters,  in  part  effaced, 

22 


but  this  much  was  I  able  to  read: 
and  he  who  would  uplift,  first 
humbly  must  yield* 

This  carving,  my  Mother  had 
said,  was  of  the  Atonement,  an  ex- 
piation of  the  evil  of  the  world,  of 
which  the  root  was  depicted  upon 
another  side  of  the  Casket*  This 
was  not  plain  to  me,  but  I  accepted 
it,  and  regarded  the  subject  with 
reverent  awe,  as  a  matter  that  was 
not  to  be  scrutinized,  nor  inquired 
into*  Nevertheless,  like  the  altar- 
lamp  at  a  shrine,  burned  without 
ceasing  the  question :  //  beauty  be 
truth,  and  love  be  right,  and  to 
live  be  good,  <why  needed  to  be 
atoned  that  <u)hich  I  had  seen  upon 
an  opposite  panel  of  the  box} 

23 


ETWEEN  the  forest 
and  the  tragedy,  upon 
a  third  surface  of  the 
®  Casket,  was  a  far,  wide 
plain,  that  seemed  to  reach  to- 
wards me  from  out  the  dusk  of 
the  very  beginning  of  things  hu- 
man. Dotting  its  horizon  were 
rude  heaps  of  fallen  stones,  shat- 
tered temples  of  long-forgotten 
cults,  whose  blocks  and  pillars^ 
scarce  shapen  by  hand,  were  but 
dimly  visible  through  the  gray 
mists  shrouding  the  plain  upon 
which  they  lay. 

24 


Strewn  hither  and  thither  over 
its  dim  expanse^  their  cloisters 
fantastically  interwoven^  in  the 
distance  crude  and  timid  in  de- 
sign, but  ever  as  they  neared 
me  growing  in  power  and  beauty, 
pile  succeeded  to  pile,  structure 
to  structure,  bespeaking  Faith^s 
many  culminations^  Each  seemed 
to  have  risen  upon  the  ground  of 
Man's  necessity,  and  proudly  in 
turn  to  have  trumpeted  the  chal- 
lenge: I  SHALL  SATISFY  I 

Among  these  ruins  was  every 
fashion  of  Man's  art  of  building; 
in  each  he  had  expressed,  as  in 
him  best  it  lay,  his  awe  in  the 
presence  of  the  AH -Mysterious. 
By  thrusting  toward  the  skies 

25 


with  all  his  might  his  loftiest 
deeds  of  beauty,  he  had  sought 
to  do  obeisance,  and  to  propi- 
tiate the  dreaded  Hand,  which 
he  felt,  but  could  not  see. 
Blood,  treasure,  and  thought,  fe- 
verishly he  had  spent,  and  out  of 
his  very  abasement,  springing 
from  his  humility,  and  nurtured 
while  he  lay  prone  upon  earth, 
one  hand  beating  his  breast,  the 
other  timidly  fashioning,  blos- 
somed and  bloomed  the  exotic 
which  we  call  Art* 

Forth  from  every  portion  of  the 
plain ;  from  each  fallen  pile,  from 
structures  shaken  with  Time's 
ague,  and  from  others  of  more 
modern    mould,   the    while    I 

26 


watched,  came  spirits  dumbly 
moving  into  line*  Each  bore,  in 
hands,  on  back,  or  dragged  be- 
hind with  ropes,  a  brick,  a  stone, 
a  piflar,  to  a  spot  where  other 
spirits  dumbly  set  these  up,  and 
builded,  wide  and  high,  in  its 
thews  a  bit  of  every  ancient  fane, 
a  towering  edifice  whose  rising 
bastions  cleft  the  mists,  to  shame 
the  dazzling  splendor  of  our  noon- 
day sun. 

Round  about  this  temple  wailed 
the  World,  and  lavished  upon  its 
altars  bIood,and  goId,and  thought; 
and  daily  the  World  slew  itself 
that  the  crimson-bannered  battle- 
ments might  greet  the  sun  full  rich 
in  Man^s  life-color,  thus  vaunting 

27 


its  God's  debt  to  Man,  for  Man's 
self-sacrifice. 

So  ran  the  strange  fancy 
wrought  by  this  picture,  which  I 
had  been  taught  to  revere,  to  love, 
and  to  cleave  to  in  hours  of  trou- 
ble. Its  edifice  had  been  called  the 
Rock  upon  <cvhich  is  founded  all 
good;  the  World's  refuge  from 
evil,  and,  within  its  archives 
only,  I  had  been  told,  lay  all  of  the 
past  that  bore  worth  for  the  future^ 
Bent  upon  seeking  asylum,  many 
times  had  my  spirit  approached 
its  open  portals,  but  the  sounds 
within  —  the  clank  of  golden 
chains — had  startled  it,  and  each 
time  wearily  my  spirit  withdrew^ 

28 


(  ONIVERSJ 


THF  \ 


O,  I  continued  to  wan- 
der, my  Mother^s  gift 
carefully  borne  between 
my  hands,  yearningly 
ooking  upon  the  woodland  pic- 
ture, notwithstanding  I  had  been 
taught  that  it  was  the  root  of  all 
pain. 


HE  fourth  surface  of 
the  box  was  polished; 
in  it,  as  in  a  mirror,  of- 
ten, uncannily,  I  saw 
things  which  resembled  my  own 
thoughts,  and  could  watch  them 
struggling  out  of  the  huge  chaos 
of  youth,  into  the  simple  order 
of  maturity* 

This  side  of  the  Casket  unceas- 
ingly held  me  in  its  magic  spell, 
and  the  transformations  which  it 
reflected  blenched  me  at  times 
with  horror.  In  its  mysterious 
depths  I  could  see  a    cold  finger 

30 


touch,  one  after  another,  things 
long  held  dear  to  my  heart  and 
passionately  cherished  by  me ; 
things  which,  at  its  approach, 
drooped  or  vanished,  or,  suddenly 
sprang  into  new  shape,  and  took 
their  places  as  mere  elements  in 
the  tremendous  hypothesis  which 
was  forming  within  me — forming 
at  the  cost  of  such  heavy  tra- 
vails 

Loved  conceptions  would  be- 
come misconceptions,  while  in- 
herited beliefs,  affectionately  nur- 
tured, fled  at  the  chill  touch  of 
that  inexorable  f ingen  Heartsick 
and  weary,  with  all  my  souths 
strength,  often  I  prayed  to  possess 
once  again  youth^s  sunlit,  trustful 

31 


hours,  and  its  mother-taught^ 
safe-guarding  formulas ;  and,  fi- 
nally, one  day,  I  thrust  from  me 
the  haunting  mirror  with  its  phan- 
tom hand  I 

But  the  finger  drew  me  back 
to  the  dread  phantasmagoria;  I 
could  not  escape  it;  the  threads 
of  the  hypothesis  must  be  spun, 
each  must  take  its  place,  and,  al- 
though it  serve  as  shroud  to  the 
dearest  heart-held  belief  that  lay 
hidden  in  my  breast,  the  fabric 
must  be  fully  woven^  Then,  weak 
with  dread,  again  I  looked,  and, 
lol  it  was  finished;  the  hypoth- 
esis was  formed,  and  it  lay  be- 
fore me  complete  in  every  element. 
The  phantasms  had  fled,  and  in 

II 


their  stead  was  a  sweep  of  tran- 
quil sky;  my  travail  was  spent^ 
and,  freed  by  the  magic  touch  of 
thought  from  the  puny  thraldom 
of  a  Plan,  in  the  clear  light  of  the 
Indisputable  —  which  men  call 
Truth  —  I  saw,  with  a  fierce  joy, 
fierce  as  the  joy  of  battle,  which 
is  sweeter  than  all  youth^s  ecsta- 
cies.  Nature^  the  Juggemaxxt,  un- 
hasting,  unthinking^  heedlessly 
on^^vard-rolling  upon  its  inexor- 
able mission  of  consequence^ 


33 


was  now 
quivering  in  my  grasp, 
the  crimson-bannered, 
j  sun-shot  battlements 
were  crumbling  to  the  ground; 
the  Castle  of  Fear  had  fallen,  and, 
as  through  a  golden  mist,  up  from 
its  shattered  corridors  arose  the 
wondrous  arts  of  Color,  Form, 
and  Sound,  the  World^s  inheri- 
tance, its  richest  legacies  of  Faith* 
The  scene  of  the  Crucifixion  had 
vanished — in  vain  had  the  twin 
spirits  Ignorance  and  Intolerance 
striven  to  quench  in  the  hearts  of 

34 


men  the  spark  out  of  which 
Thought  and  Compassion  were 
summoning  the  love  of  kind — and 
in  its  stead  stood  there  the  spirit 
of  Eternal  Kindness,  saying: 
Condemn  not,  test  the  flames  of 
resentment  consume  the  vessel  in 
which  they  bum*  Ye  cannot  reach 
the  ancestry  of  this  day^s  mis- 
deeds,  but  the  morrow^s  "worth 
<waits  upon  its  inheritance — 
therefore,  gamer  ye  all  good* 

Then,  with  a  wrench,  as  if  it 
were  being  torn  from  me  by  all 
of  the  hands  of  Time,  the  Casket 
leapt  from  my  grasp,  and  lay  at 
my  feet,  open*  The  ground  trem- 
bled and  rocked,  as  if  in  the  throes 
of  convulsion,  and  out  of  the  Cas- 

35 


kct  there  sprang  a  Man,  facing  the 
level  rays  of  the  new-day's  sun, 
firm-eyed  and  strong,  one  hand 
aloft  to  command  his  fate,  while 
with  the  other  he  thrust  back  to 
their  graves  the  grim  hordes  of 
the  past,  hugging  their  implements 
of  terror,  worship,  and  propitiation* 
And  up  from  their  knees  to 
Man's  full  height  rose  other  men, 
stripping  from  death  its  hideous  jest 
of  Itfe, and  gazing  withfearless eyes 
into  the  sun.  Unawed  by  the  men- 
ace of  the  Universe,  these  grasped 
the  earth  and  bent  it  to  their  need; 
wrung  from  its  tardy  lips  new, 
frank,  replies,  and  conjured  from 
every  firmamental  star  its  seething 
tribute  to  Man's  master  mind. 

36 


From  its  slumber  of  untold  cen- 
turies the  World  seemed  suddenly 
to  have  waked^  and  at  a  bound 
to  have  passed  from  beneath  the 
sombre  clouds  of  savagery,  bar- 
barism, and  civilization,  out  into 
the  clear  dawn  of  the  god-un- 
needing  age  of  enlightenment* 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

RENEWALS  ONLY— TEL.  NO.  642-3405 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 

Renewed  bnnlrT  irr  "iiihirrf  to  iifmrrliitr  recall. 


MN  4:y  ,96g  g  ^ 


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UOAN  DEPT. 


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